


Just Let Me Hold You, And We'll Both Fall Down

by iwannasteal_atimelord



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, but sort of fluffy, i guess it's a bit wordy, maybe just dramatic, sort of angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 15:01:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwannasteal_atimelord/pseuds/iwannasteal_atimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is so strong for so many. But who do the leaders turn to when they are weak? She wants to be his safe haven, the same way that he has always been hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Let Me Hold You, And We'll Both Fall Down

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, this is my first Doctor Who fic, and I'm kind of new to writing in general, so hopefully it's not terrible?
> 
> I've just always wanted to explore this aspect of The Doctor & River's relationship, because it seems so meaningful to me that she understands him so deeply and loves him the way she does.  
> Also, after watching the show... there were some things I wanted to say to The Doctor. Since I can't do that, I made River do it for me.
> 
> Title inspired by the song "Ever the Same" by Rob Thomas.

 

She notices when he leaves the room. She always notices. He thinks she’s sleeping. Some nights are worse than others.

 

She waits, debating. The wise, brilliant man who leaps through the stars and can be defeated by no one, the Time Lord Victorious, the man in the blue box… Of course, he fears nothing more than himself. Nobody loathes The Doctor more than The Doctor does. Her hearts ache and she debates no longer. She has tunnel vision now.

 

Slipping out of bed, she adjusts her sleepwear – his shirt, of course, she basks in the comfort of his scent – and slips into the TARDIS corridor on silent feet. She peeks her head through the entryway of the dimmed console room, and her eyes spot him immediately.

 

He sits, back facing her, with the TARDIS doors open and his legs hanging down. He stares out at the universe, at everything that means anything to him, and she can see the weight of it all, of the universe, all that ever was or will be, in the slump of his shoulders. And she knows the weight of all his guilt is heavier.

 

She can feel the raw burn in her hearts, the same one she always feels when she sees him this way. Most people learn the feel of a breaking heart at some point in their lives. But most people’s hearts simply sink, to rise again later on. Her two hearts tear. Beneath her ribs lie two living, beating, hearts made of paper. Each side marred with life, some experiences or people seared in permanently, and others erased or scribbled out.  And small, but growing, tears down the middle of each one.

 

His hearts are made of the flesh of time. They are made of life, death, love, and the smallest slivers of ice. His hearts are made of sterner stuff than hers are.

 

She feels a small tug at her sternum, the tug of her soul reaching out for his, and quietly tiptoes her way down the stairs to him. Kneeling down, she gently kisses the top of his head through his hair and softly murmurs her usual “Hello, sweetie.”

 

She hears him sigh, half-contented and half-broken, as she settles down next to him, letting her bare legs swing down into space beside his. They sit in silence for a few moments, her head rested on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his torso while his fingers gently tug at her curls. He suddenly perks up, turning to her with an enthusiastic but faked smile and a, “What, no tea or Jammy Dodgers, Doctor Song?” She sighs and turns her head up to see his face. She knows that he knows she can see through his mask, and it’s so obvious that she could just slap him for even trying that on her. He leans down and pecks her frowning mouth.

 

“Don’t hide from me, Doctor.” She whispers against his lips, and her green eyes plead with his. He closes his eyes and his brow furrows as he leans his forehead against hers. He lets out a defeated sigh and replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it, wife.”

 

“Come here,” she says, and pulls his head down to rest against her hearts, letting him wrap himself around her and holding him tightly. She would take away all his anguish if she could. She would tear the universe apart for this man – almost did once – and she would shamelessly do worse to take away his guilt. This man, who saved so many, who showed kindness to the most heartless creatures, who took a young girl trained to hate and showed her how to love instead… this man is crying silently into her shoulder now.

 

“I don’t deserve you, River.” He chokes the words out so quietly that she almost doesn’t hear them.

 

“Oh, my beautiful idiot,” she murmurs with a rueful smile as she strokes her fingers through his hair soothingly, “Do shut up.”

 

He chuckles at that, but it comes out strangled and raw. His River, his murderer and his savior, his lover and his partner. Why she loves him, he’ll never understand. She should have had more. A better life, and a better husband. He knows this, but he also knows that he is a selfish old man, and he will cling to her love as long as she offers it to him.

 

“Do you remember what I told you on the top of that pyramid?” She inquires.

 

“Every word.” He says quietly, but firmly. He remembers everything she’s ever said to him.

 

“You just didn’t listen then, I guess.” And he can sense her eyes rolling without even looking.

 

“River…” he goes to protest, but she cuts him off.

 

“I hate that you see yourself this way. Your mind is so fogged with centuries of life and time and memories that you can’t see yourself clearly at all.”

 

“River, I’ve been responsible for genocides. I have terrorized and burdened thousands with my recklessness. I sweep innocent, unsuspecting humans up and promise them the universe, but leave out the fact that they will probably meet their ends and give up their homes and families for a dark, mad man who will just do the same to another once they’re gone. I know you want to comfort me, dear, but I know who I am and what I’ve done.”

 

She feels her paper hearts rip a bit more at his words. And then she feels them begin to beat with a new determination. This is _her_ Doctor, the best man she’s ever known, and it’s about time she explains a few things to him. The Doctor is so strong for so many. But who do the leaders turn to when they are weak? She wants to be his safe haven, the same way that he has always been hers. He carries the weight of the universe, and she will carry the weight of him. Sometimes she thinks it’s a bit morbid, the way she craves the burden of his guilt. She wants it to fill her, to feel what he feels and give his tattered mind some relief from it all. She is his bespoke psychopath, so maybe everything about her love for him is morbid anyway. She still would not take any of it back. River Song has many regrets. Loving The Doctor is not one of them.

 

“You are so wrong, my love.”

 

“River, please… I don’t want –“

 

“Hush.” She cuts him off again. _It’s really quite rude_. He thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind.

 

“Doctor, you have no idea,” she begins, “You have no idea… about the magnitude of your influence on this universe.”

 

“I think I’ve got a few ideas.” He snaps, growing impatient with her coddling.

 

“Shut. Up.” And her fingers tug a bit roughly at his hair, her own impatience showing now. He shouldn’t like that. Kind of does, a bit.

 

“I know what you’ve done. I know you have murdered, and lied, and stolen, and had moments of true, blind stupidity. I know that you’ve seen things and lost things that most creatures could never fathom…” She takes a deep breath here, knowing that she’ll need to steel herself for the rest of this. “Don’t think that I am dismissing your bad deeds, Doctor. I know just as well as you do that the good deeds will never diminish the bad, or make them count any less. But there are some things you must remember. Are you listening, my love? Because I _need_ you to know this, Doctor.”

 

His ancient eyes lift and gaze into hers, and she recognizes the seriousness in them. “I always listen.” She pretends that’s true, if only because she knows that he means it right now.

 

“You think that everything you do is so selfish, and that you never give enough in return. You think that you whisk these humans away, befriend them, only to lead them to their demise and then forget them. But that has never, ever been the truth, Sweetie. When you ran away, all those years ago… when you escaped to see the stars, because you thirsted for _more_ and burned with a need so fierce that it could never have been tamed, you were following a dream. It’s the most magnificent dream in the universe, and it’s the best choice I believe you’ve ever made. Because you see, my love, that magnificent dream is the most universal dream as well.”

 

He looks up at her then, brow furrowed, eyes curious, and hearts thudding.

 

“Those humans, they wanted the same things that you did. That you still do. Do you honestly think Rose would have ever been happy as a shop girl, eating chips with Mickey and flipping through channels, watching her mother with a new date every weekend? You knew her better than that. Do you think Martha would have been half the woman she was without having seen the things she did, and saving the world time and time again? Her experience with you gave her strength and ferocity. And Donna, of course I know that will always sting. She was so lonely, so wrapped up in a sense of uselessness. Never knowing that she was the most important woman in all of creation. She might not remember that now, but I know you remember. And I know you remember that she found happiness, and love, and where she belonged.”

She braced herself for the next people on the list, knowing it was still a sore spot for them both. “My mum and dad might not have lasted without you, you know. I know you think you came between them too much, and yes, you were a source of tension in their relationship for a bit. But they loved you, both of them. They both grew so much in their time with you. Their love was tested and strengthened and they saw more than they ever could have hoped to just living in their tiny town.”

 

“And they created a baby with a time head… and a misguided hatred of cool hats.” he whispered to her, affectionately. He loved her time head. The only being left in the universe that was similar to him. She couldn’t fight the smile at that comment, and flicked his shoulder with a giggle. “Oi!”

 

“Shut up and let me finish darling,” She said with a sweet kiss to the shoulder she had flicked. “My point here is that the humans you think you tricked and destroyed needed you as much as you needed them. Who cares about safety and security, when there are whole other worlds to see? When there are planets to save and lives to inspire? I can promise you, sweetie, that not one of your companions would have traded their experience with you for an easy lifestyle, no matter the end result. All of your friends… they got to _live_ because of you, even if only for a short while.” He frowned at that, but her hearts ached with the need to show him his own goodness, his own value, and she sped on. “You are responsible for many deaths my love, as am I. And I’m so sorry because I know you regret so much. But you’ve saved so many along the way. And I know that saving lives doesn’t make up for ending others, but that doesn’t mean that you are bad. You have always acted out of kindness and bravery. You’ve had your dark moments; of course, my lonely old man in his giant blue box… how could you not? But you have been just, and fair. You have risked for so many and given so much. People have died in your name, Doctor, and you think that it’s such a horrible reflection on you, but it’s just the opposite. You think that people die for you because they want to impress you, or because they see you as better than you are but that’s not true. People die for you because they believe in you. Because they know that you would do it for them, and for so many others. They do it because they know that you can save their friends, and family, and strangers, and because you are the best man they’ve probably ever met and they gain strength in knowing that you exist, strength enough to die so that you might live.”

 

She takes his face in her hands, and lifts it so that she can look into his eyes when she tells him the truth about himself. “All those people, all the ones who have risked for you, who have died for you, who have cared for you… they didn’t do it because they were tricked by a sinister monster or because they were blinded by the charms of false hope. They did it because you, my beautiful idiot, are _worth it_. Do you understand me, Doctor? _You are worthy. You are loved_ because _you are worthy.”_

 

His eyes fearfully search hers for any sign that she could be lying for his sake, but he knows that she isn’t. His eyes soften, and fill with tears. The guilt is not erased, and the burden of the universe still hangs over his shoulders like a heavy cloak, but the fog in his mind has cleared a bit. Less stormy, and just misty now. His thoughts instead swim with River’s words, his mind working to reconcile her image of him with his own image of himself. He feels his grief lessen, and his hearts lighten a bit at the idea that he could be worthy. That was the word she had used, _worthy_ , because she understands his feelings of worthlessness, the desperation he feels for redemption and forgiveness. And she gave that to him with so much sincerity, so much hope in every word that he could not dismiss or obsessively deconstruct it like the dark parts of his mind would usually do. There would still be dark times, he knew, but oh, he had gained so much from just a small dose of River’s perspective. _River Song, miracle worker. My miraculous wife._ He thought.

 

He leaned over and kissed her fiercely then, putting every ounce of his love for her into the kiss and wishing that it could ever be enough to show his gratitude. He didn’t think he could ever do enough to show her his appreciation, though. She disagreed. Their kiss grew gentler after a few moments, more loving and sweet, and they reluctantly separated their lips just enough to speak.

 

“Thank you, River. Truly.” He whispered against her mouth, breathing love into every word. She nuzzled her nose against his, and pecked his lips again lightly, before responding. “Thank _you_ , Doctor. I’m one of those people you saved, you know. I murdered you – twice – and you still forgave me.”

 

He graced her with a wise, loving smile and a gentle bop on the nose with his finger. “Always and completely.”

 

Deciding they’d both had enough of heavy emotion for the night; River stood and reached her hands out to tug The Doctor up. “Now,” she said, “About the tea and Jammy Dodgers…” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I have no ownership of anything related to Doctor Who, except an ill-fitting shirt with the TARDIS on it, and a couple of lovely tote bags. But the characters and the concept of the show and all that... not mine. Which is probably a good thing. Also I'm not making any profit from this, sometimes I just get weird at 3:00 AM and do unexpected stuff, like apparently write fanfiction.


End file.
